Doing More with Less — by Brant Taylor

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Doing More with Less — by Brant Taylor

I recently had the opportunity to travel to Havana, Cuba, accompanying a jazz band that was invited to perform at the Havana International Jazz Festival. Considered a “cultural exchange,” the trip was approved by the U. S. Department of the Treasury and we made the short flight to Havana from Miami. (Because our embargo is a financial one, the U.S. Treasury oversees all travel between the U.S. and Cuba. A full report on my impressions of Havana or on the 50 years of economic strangulation the Cuban people have experienced is far outside the scope and purpose of this space!)

Among many other activities, we visited Havana’s Amadeo Roldan Conservatory, which teaches music to high school students. While I am aware that Cuba has a vibrant, colorful musical tradition and history, my expectations didn’t prepare me for what I heard at the conservatory. The visit took the form of an informal performance—Cuban conservatory students played jazz in various small ensembles for our American band, and vice versa.

In their second-floor auditorium, the windows were thrown wide open. Sunlight, breeze, and street sounds mingled with music coming from practice rooms. As the first group of young Cubans took up their instruments—a trio of saxophone, upright bass, and drums—I noted that the bass looked very well-worn and reminded myself that the saxophone is not exactly my Favorite Sound On Earth. They were breathtaking. Listening like experienced chamber musicians, they played with a sophistication and poise that one generally expects only from experienced professionals. Their intense seriousness of purpose was tempered with joy as they relished interacting with each other and with the audience. These three were soon joined by a show-stealing pianist who looked to be about 15 years old and a trumpet player with a mature, soulful sound that I’ve rarely heard in so young a musician.

The experience gave me several things to ponder.

I expect that these young people, like most Cubans, live frugal, simple home lives with their families. It is abundantly clear that music is their consuming passion, and perhaps some of them hope it may be their ticket out of a modest past without material frills into a successful future. By contrast, most American teenagers I know seem to be trying to become as well-rounded as possible, bouncing from sports practice to music lessons to community service projects to chess club to standardized test prep in an effort to be able to put it all down on a college admission application when the time comes. Is meaningful focus in a single area of discipline becoming more difficult for pre-college Americans? While nobody can deny that having varied and versatile skills plays a role in 21st century life, is aiming to be passably proficient in several areas better than aiming to be truly first-class at one thing?

Tellingly, once the young Cubans began playing, I stopped noticing their instruments. They were all a little beat-up and likely way overdue for a trip to the repair shop—if there is one in Havana that anyone could afford. But it just didn’t matter. This makes me slightly embarrassed to recall conversations I had in college with my peers, the essence of which was that if we could somehow just get our hands on amazing instruments and bows, we’d be All Set For Greatness.

The Cuban system of musical study draws few if any boundaries among different musical styles. Every student at the conservatory studies classical music alongside jazz and other music native to Cuba. They seem to find distinctions unnecessary and don’t see why Americans keep the respective studies of these styles separate—or even why we use terms like “classical.” How many of us have ever wished that improvisation was a part of our music education? How much easier would classical theory be if we all had some knowledge of the basic chord structures in jazz?

One thing this visit made abundantly clear is how far desire and focused hard work (and, presumably, dedicated teaching) will carry someone who wants to achieve a high level in musical study. The quality of one’s equipment and relative youth need not be the barriers to mature artistry that we might assume. These inspiring Cuban students are doing it anyway, and with little other than their passionate dedication to music.

By Brant Taylor|2020-09-17T02:36:38-04:00April 7th, 2011|Categories: Cello Travel, Self Discovery, Teaching|Tags: bows, Taylor, perspective, activities, Travel, assumptions, interactions, Sound, jazz, focus, opportunity, passion, culture, youth, Airplanes, Brant, audiences, ensembles|

About the Author: Brant Taylor

Born in New York, Brant Taylor began cello studies at the age of 8. His varied career includes solo appearances and collaborations with leading chamber musicians throughout North America, Europe, and Asia, as well as orchestral, pedagogical, and popular music activities. After one year as a member of the Saint Louis Symphony Orchestra, Mr. Taylor was appointed to the Chicago Symphony Orchestra by Daniel Barenboim in 1998. In Chicago, Mr. Taylor’s recital appearances include the Dame Myra Hess Concerts, First Monday Concerts, Rush Hour Concerts at St. James Cathedral, the Ravinia Festival’s Rising Stars recital series, and regular live radio broadcasts from the studios of WFMT. He has appeared regularly with the Chicago Chamber Musicians and on the contemporary chamber music series MusicNow.

Mr. Taylor made his solo debut with the San Antonio Symphony at the age of 14 after winning a concerto competition, and has since been soloist with numerous orchestras, performing the works of Dvorak, Haydn, Elgar, Shostakovich, Lalo, Boccherini, Saint-Saens, and Brahms, among others.

From 1992-97, Mr. Taylor was cellist of the award-winning Everest Quartet, prizewinners at the Banff International String Quartet Competition and the Fischoff Chamber Music Competition. The Quartet performed and taught extensively in North America and the Caribbean, and gave the world premiere performance of a work by Israeli-American composer Paul Schoenfield.

In 1997, Mr. Taylor was a member of the New World Symphony. He has returned to appear as soloist with that orchestra under the batons of Michael Tilson-Thomas and Nicholas McGegan, as well as to teach and participate in audition training seminars.

In 2002, Mr. Taylor began a seven-year association with the band Pink Martini. With this eclectic ensemble, he has appeared on “Late Night with Conan O’Brien”, “The Late Show with David Letterman”, at the Hollywood Bowl with the Los Angeles Philharmonic, and in venues ranging from nightclubs to concert halls across North America. He can be heard on Pink Martini’s 2006 release, “Hey Eugene.”

Mr. Taylor is a frequent performer and teacher at music festivals, including the Festival der Zukunft in Ernen, Switzerland, the Portland Chamber Music Festival, the Shanghai International Music Festival, the Aspen Music Festival, the Mimir Chamber Music Festival, the Mammoth Lakes Chamber Music Festival, Music Festival Santo Domingo, Michigan’s Village Bach Festival, and Music at Gretna in Pennsylvania, where he has made repeated appearances as a concerto soloist. Mr. Taylor has also served as Principal Cello of the Arizona Musicfest Orchestra since 2006.

Active as a teacher of both cello and chamber music, Mr. Taylor serves on the faculty of the DePaul University School of Music. He has also been a faculty member at Roosevelt University’s Chicago College of Performing Arts and Northwestern University’s National High School Music Institute, and has led classes on pedagogy and orchestral repertoire at the University of Michigan. Mr. Taylor holds a Bachelor of Music degree and a Performer’s Certificate from the Eastman School of Music, where he won the school’s Concerto Competition and performed as soloist with the Eastman Philharmonia. His Master of Music degree is from Indiana University. Mr. Taylor’s primary teachers have been Janos Starker and Paul Katz.